


The End Of Innocence (Part Two)

by Reis_Asher



Series: Ownership [7]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Smut, Blow Jobs, D/s, Dom/sub, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hannor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Sub Connor, Traumatized Connor, all the feels, connor and hank doing detective work, hank/connor, hankcon - Freeform, mentions of child abuse and rape, safeword, the sappiest possible ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Affected by the child rape and murder case, Hank spirals into a dark and self-destructive mood. With his back up against the wall, it's up to Connor to put his foot down and refuse to obey an order that will cause his partner harm at his hands.Meanwhile, the case hits a dead end as the suspect is uncooperative and the samples from the scene are tainted. Connor is left with no other choice but to obtain evidence another way - but can he handle the stress of being traumatized again?Hank once more proves to be the anchor holding Connor's boat secure in a stormy sea as he pushes the limits of what he can emotionally handle without destroying himself. With everything on the line, the two place their love and trust in one another, determined to achieve justice in a world that has little of it left to go around.





	The End Of Innocence (Part Two)

**Author's Note:**

> Just to recap: this is Part Two of a two part arc within the Ownership series. This story arc (specifically, the child sex abuse/murder case Hank and Connor are working on in this fic) might be upsetting to some people. I've tried not to be gratuitous in my descriptions about the case since we're really here for the Hank and Connor fluff and angst, but consider yourself warned. The Explicit rating is for Hank and Connor porn, however, not for anything in the case which would probably warrant a Mature rating. I Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings not because of any big surprises, but because I felt I wanted to warn but none of the tags were appropriate.
> 
> If you want to skip this arc, skip Parts 6 and 7 of Ownership. You'll be able to continue from Part 8 (when it's posted) when Hank and Connor will have a new case. You'll miss a few details, but hopefully not anything you won't figure out.
> 
> I've tried to mix the angst and the darkness with a lot of light and love. It's my belief that Hank and Connor are perfect for one another and I love to see them supporting each other in hard times. :)

They were barely through the front door when Hank made a beeline for the shower. He even ignored Sumo, who whined, the dog sensing the presence of pain in his master. “I’ve gotta get the stink of that place off me,” Hank muttered.

Connor understood what he meant. The smell of decay and thirium seemed trapped in his nasal cavity, the horrors they’d seen at the crime scene seeming to cling to him like a dark aura.

“May I come with you?” Connor wasn’t sure Hank wanted company. After his revelations in the backlot, there was a good chance he would want to be alone. Connor would respect his wishes, but he wanted to keep Hank close.

“Yeah. Okay.” Hank nodded distractedly. He stripped down and Connor followed suit, discarding their clothes in the hamper. He made a mental note to do laundry later and climbed into the shower behind Hank. He watched as Hank soaped himself up and handed the soap to Connor. Connor lathered up and switched places with Hank to stand under the spray. The sins of the warehouse seemed to disappear down the drain, though Connor suspected the case would leave a lasting impression on him. Hank switched back to stand under the water, one round of soap and bubbles seemingly not enough to cleanse his body and soul.

“Lather my back for me,” Hank commanded. Connor complied, caressing Hank’s back gingerly as he spread the soap bubbles over his skin. Hank sighed. “Kiss me and touch me, Connor. I ain’t gonna break. I’m not made of glass.”

“I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to touch you intimately after the scene we just witnessed. I'm trying to respect your personal space, Lieutenant.”

Hank closed his eyes and let the spray cover his face. He waited a few seconds before answering Connor. “Fair point, I guess. This is nothing like that, though. Never could be.”

Connor brushed kisses across Hank’s shoulders and down his back, dropping to his knees in the shower. Connor soaped up the back of Hank's legs and worked upwards until he reached his ass. Connor gently massaged his ass cheeks and slipped a finger between them, testing the waters of Hank's comfort zone.

“Connor, fuck. More,” Hank bucked against Connor's finger, forcing it deeper inside. Hank pulled away and reached past the shower curtain, knocking bottles into the floor as he blindly groped for the lube. He pressed the bottle into Connor’s hands and it didn't take a scan for Connor to realize Hank was shaking.

“Hank, are you sure? I detect a tremor in your—"

“Shut the fuck up and obey, unless you want to kneel outside all night.” The dark, haunted look in Hank's eyes had returned and Connor knew better than to disobey. Hank needed this, and it wasn’t his place to second-guess the man he'd chosen to submit to. He lubed his finger and gently pressed against Hank's hole until the ring of muscle yielded and he slipped inside.

“Connor…” Hank grabbed the tiled wall as Connor probed him. “Another finger,” he ordered. Connor added a second finger, slowly, gently stretching Hank. How far was this likely to go? Hank had never expressed any interest in Connor topping him, and after Hank’s revelation, he’d thought he understood why.

“Oh, fuck,” Hank hissed. He leaned against the wall, opening his ass wider for Connor to gain access. “Fuck me. That's what you want, isn't it? That's what they all want.”

Connor realized with horror that Hank wasn't in the moment, but in a dark place where Connor couldn't follow. He withdrew his fingers as if stung.

“No.” Connor reached over and turned off the water. He pulled the shower curtain aside and grabbed a towel, drying Hank down. Hank was barely even hard, his sad erection wilting almost at once.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hank asked.

“Disobeying your orders. For your own good.” Connor didn’t want to use the safeword, but it was on the tip of his tongue if he needed it. He would not be used as a method by which Hank hurt himself. He’d done a lot of reading since they’d gotten together, and safe, sane and consensual were important rules to live by. This was far from sane. “You need to go to bed and sleep,” Connor explained. “You’re not in the right mindset for this. I won't allow you to use our relationship to indulge in self-destructive behavior.”

"You're supposed to do as I ask," Hank growled.

Hank had forced his hand, so Connor played his final card. "Cucumber. I won't destroy you, Hank, not even if you want me to. I won't be the gun in your hand you use to play Russian Roulette."

"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking." Hank stood still for a long moment, the shadows in his eyes fading as he grounded himself in reality. “I’m sorry, Connor.” Hank passed the towel to Connor. 

"You don't have to apologize," Connor explained while drying himself off. "I want to serve you, but more than anything, I want to make you happy."

“Hold me while I sleep,” Hank's voice was quiet, as if all his energy had been expended on banishing the shadows from his mind.

“I’ll be right in.” Connor grabbed the laundry and threw it in the washer before walking into the penetrating gloom of Hank’s bedroom. He climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arm around Hank, spooning with him. He was relieved when Hank fell asleep in his arms, and set about running his diagnostics as he went into standby mode. He made sure to leave enough subroutines to monitor Hank, so he couldn't slip into the kitchen for a late-night date with his gun without Connor knowing.

***

“Connor.” Connor came back to full awareness to find Hank shaking him by the shoulders. At some point Connor's systems had forced him to run a deep scan, his self-preservation protocol needing to process the emotionally intense memories he'd witnessed in the last day and move them from short-term memory into long-term storage. The process was largely complete, and he was able to sideline the rest to a secondary processor so he could concentrate on Hank in the here and now.

“Lieutenant?” Connor reached out in the dark to find Hank's face close to his. A scan revealed his arousal, but his heart rate was calm and his posture was relaxed.

“Connor, I need...” Hank kissed him, pressing him down into the pillows, but he wasn’t aggressive this time. The kiss was tender and drawn out, a continuation of the one they’d shared in the parking lot. Hank’s erection brushed against his cock and Connor felt himself harden despite his reservations. “I've done a lot of thinking. I want you to top me, Connor.”

“Are you sure?” Connor didn’t like asking for clarification when Hank gave him an order, but he needed to know Hank’s bleak mood had departed.

“Yes. Please obey me, Connor. I _need_ this. I need you.” Hank’s hand gripped both their cocks and stroked them together. Connor moaned, loving the friction. He could come from this alone, but that wasn’t what Hank needed, and he lived to serve Hank.

“Okay,” Connor whispered. He pulled away from Hank, reaching for the lube on the bedside table. He slicked a finger with it and set about stretching Hank.

“Oh, Connor.” Hank closed his eyes. Connor took his time, easing his finger in and out before adding another. He spread the lube across his cock and positioned his head at Hank’s hole.

“Wait. Stop. Cu-Cucumber.”

Connor froze. Hank sat up on the edge of the bed and Connor pulled him into his arms. Hank rested his head on Connor's chest, his breaths rapid and irregular as he panicked. Connor stroked Hank's hair. “Hank, I only want what you want. You’re in control. If you need to stop, let’s stop. Tell me what to do to make you feel safe and I'll do it. I don't need to penetrate you to be satisfied.”

“Okay.” Hank sighed. “Lay down on the bed for me.” Connor complied. He was quite happy to receive. Whatever Hank needed pleased him too, and he loved the feeling of Hank's thick cock stretching him and slamming against his bio-prostate. He'd never been the penetrative partner, but it no matter how good it might be, it wasn't important enough to be worth watching Hank suffer like this.

Connor lay out on the bed, his dick returning to full hardness beneath Hank’s hungry gaze. He was surprised when Hank climbed on the bed and straddled him.

“You’re so beautiful all laid out for me like this. Perfect. Yes, this is what I need. Just like this." Hank grasped Connor’s erection in his hand and lowered himself onto it slowly. Connor cried out as he slipped past all resistance and found himself buried in tight heat. So this was what it felt like. He'd imagined many scenarios, but nothing quite lived up to how hot Hank was inside, or how good it felt when Hank's tight asshole squeezed him.

“That good for you, Connor?” Hank asked. His eyes burned with a bright blue flame so intense Connor imagined he might burn up in it. It was the opposite of the dark soul he'd seen earlier. This was a Hank full of light instead of darkness, Hank in control and safe, knowing exactly what he wanted and present in the moment. Connor allowed himself to relax a little.

“Yes. Lieutenant, you're so _tight_ ," Connor cried out.

Hank smirked. He started to ride Connor, his hard cock slapping against Connor’s stomach until Hank took it in hand and started to pump. Connor watched Hank fucking himself on his cock and thought he’d never seen anything so erotic in his entire life as Hank like this, eyes lidded with desire, face flushed, hair tousled as he touched himself, his eyes never leaving Connor's for a second. This was nothing like the Hank he’d seen in the shower. This was Hank in control even as he bottomed, trusting Connor with something he clearly didn’t do often. Connor let Hank set the pace, knowing Hank would let him find release when it was time. Connor didn't need to thrust, and doing so might lessen Hank's feeling of control, so he restrained the impulse to buck his hips upwards and bury himself deeper inside.

Hank came first, spilling all over Connor’s stomach and chest with a loud groan. “Go ahead, Connor. Come inside me.” 

Connor let go, shooting his semen into Hank’s ass as he cried out his name in a high-pitched prayer. He grabbed the sheets, almost tearing them as his entire body twitched involuntarily, shook by the force of his orgasm.

“Fuck.” Hank gasped for breath, lifting himself off Connor and flopping down beside him. He pulled Connor into his embrace. Connor rested his head on Hank’s chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat coming down. Hank stroked his hair and they lay like that for a while, lost in a feeling that no words could adequately describe, until Connor sensed that Hank had fallen back to sleep.

***

Morning dawned. Connor was up and about, cooking, cleaning and ironing before Hank stirred. Connor was both eager and determined to continue the case, but the images and feelings still stored in his data banks haunted him.

Connor sensed motion in his peripheral vision and looked up to see Hank emerging from the bedroom, fully naked. He knelt at his master's feet and Hank smiled.

“There’s something cute about you being all domestic like this," Hank said.

“I’ve taken Sumo for a walk, fed him, washed and ironed the laundry, and breakfast is on the stove,” Connor explained.

Hank walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m spoiled, Connor. Thank you. For choosing to be here. For last night.” He reached out and touched Connor’s face. He looked like he wanted to say more, but his tender caresses spoke for him. “I’ll just grab a shower and then eat. We need to get down to the station and bring in that suspect you ID’d last night. Get up, Connor. While I appreciate you down on your knees, today I need you at my side.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.” Connor stood up and watched Hank walk to the bathroom before turning back to the stove to finish cooking breakfast.

***

Connor left the booth and headed into the interrogation room. Hank looked ready to crush the coffee cup he was holding, and Connor realized he needed some backup before he turned the table over and physically threatened the suspect. They'd brought James Underwood in based on the image Connor had extracted from the child android's memory, but so far he'd resisted every threat, deal, and question Hank had thrown his way. Connor let the door close behind him and discreetly flashed Hank a signal that they should take a break.

“You got nothin’.” Underwood laughed and leaned back in the interrogation room chair. He grinned and scratched his greasy beard, regarding Hank and Connor with beady eyes. “It’s not illegal to fuck plastic kids. Not yet, anyway.”

“Too bad for you one of the victims was human,” Hank said. Cold coffee slopped over onto the table as he slammed the cup down hard, pushed his chair out, and stood up.

“You got nothin' tyin’ me to that. Ask your fucking android.” The man looked right at Connor. “Tell him. My DNA doesn’t match anything from the dead kid, does it?”

Underwood had him there. The results had been inconclusive for one reason and one reason only: there were so many different DNA traces in the sample that it was impossible to isolate them all, even with modern technology. Short of a confession, they didn't have enough evidence to secure a conviction. Connor remained silent, keeping his eyes on Hank. A scan revealed Hank's elevated heart rate and the beginnings of a tension headache. Hank left his coffee cup on the table and stormed out. Connor followed him without looking back at the suspect.

“We’ve got to let this prick go,” Hank said out in the hallway. “As much as he deserves to rot in a jail cell.” Connor squeezed Hank’s arm, but he felt the same despair that Hank did. Underwood was the only lead they had, and he wasn't going to crack without something linking him to the crime.

“What happened to the other YK500 androids?” Connor asked.

“They’re in the evidence room for now. They’re too damaged to be permanently reactivated. Once his investigation is over, we’ll try to put together some sort of funeral for them.” Hank let out a long sigh. "I need more coffee."

“I have to probe their memories," Connor insisted. "One of them might have seen something.”

Hank rested his hands on Connor's shoulders, squeezing them. “Connor, we went over this. What if you self-destruct from the stress? I can’t lose you.”

“It’s the only way,” Connor pleaded. “We can’t let the killer get away.”

“Let another android do it. Not you. You're too important.”

“My database was designed with testimony in mind. It’s more secure than that of other androids. My evidence is admissible in court. It has to be me, Hank. We can solve this case. Let me do this.”

Hank released a long sigh and nursed his temples. “All right, but I want to be there. I’m not letting you go through that hell alone.” He led the way to the archive room, unlocking the door and entering his password. Connor bristled as he saw the child androids hanging from the wall, remembering the deviant case. Connor had to switch parts here, too, and he felt like a butcher, taking biocomponents from one android to replace broken ones in another. All of them had critical damage, meaning Connor could reactivate them for a few minutes at most.

They’d be scared. He'd have to find a way to comfort them before probing their memories. Connor wished for once that he was just a machine, but he’d never truly had that privilege, had he? From the first moment he’d experienced instability in his software, he’d began walking the long road to deviancy. He’d only really been a pure, unfeeling machine before they’d made him a liar and shot Daniel in front of his eyes on that rooftop. That moment had been the beginning of a slow death for the argument that he was anything less than a living being. He'd been the last one to accept it, but he didn't want to go back now. Empathy might be painful, but empathy allowed him to share in Hank's pain, to imagine how his partner might be feeling in his darkest moments. He wouldn't exchange that for the world.

Connor activated the first android. A child’s scream pierced his ears and he winced.

“It’s going to be all right,” Connor soothed. “You’re safe, now.” He hated lying, but it was the only recourse he had. If he was going to catch these monsters who masqueraded as men, it was a necessary evil. “I’m going to look at your memories. Just think about something nice until it’s all over.” He grasped the child’s arm and drew his skin back, probing the android’s memory. He was vaguely aware of Hank’s hand entwining with his between the screams and the terror, as the men hurt him over and over. He looked around in the feed, trying to see the human boy, but came up short. He ended the link.

“Why… are you… crying?” The android boy looked up at Connor with eyes that no longer saw anything. His voice was starting to fail, static distorting his sweet tones. Connor reached up and deactivated him to spare him the misery of dying.

Hank never let go of his hand. He grounded Connor, who wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve and forced himself to keep going.

“Not this one,” Connor said, extracting biocomponents. He didn’t tremble, per se, but there was a stutter in his program caused by intense emotional instability that made several warnings pop up in his vision. He wondered how much stress he could take before he self-destructed like Carlos Ortiz’s android. The urge to grab the gun holstered at his side and place it under his chin reared its ugly head and he squeezed Hank's hand. Hank raised Connor's hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss, and Connor felt his stress level decrease slightly. Hank was here with him. He was safe with his Lieutenant watching over him.

“Connor, you don’t have to do this," Hank reminded him.

“Yes, I do. I can’t turn back the clock, but I can put these killers behind bars for a long time.” Connor spoke with resolve, trying to convince himself as much as Hank. He moved on to the next android, inserting the thirium pump regulator he’d pulled from the first one.

It wasn’t any easier the second or third time, either, but just as Connor was about to give up, he caught a glimpse of what he was looking for. A group of men was gathered around the little boy.

“I see something!” Connor yelled. “One of the suspects we're looking for has a beard, and he’s wearing a janitorial uniform. I can make out the letters... he works at a convenience store. There are other figures standing around but many of them are masked.”

“Scan the janitor's face, Connor. We need a positive I.D,” Hank urged.

“I’ve got it! His name is Terrance Douglas. I have his last known address and a list of priors.” Connor slipped out of the probe and deactivated the android, hoping that she would find peace in some way. He collapsed to his knees, overcome, and Hank knelt down beside him. Connor clung to him like a piece of driftwood on a stormy sea, afraid that if he let go he would be consumed by the horrors these children had faced.

“Hank, bring the suspect in. Let’s finish this." The images flooded through Connor's head and he was unable to control them. The instability was too much, the urge to reach for darkness and silence from the screams completely overwhelming his logic circuits. Was this what Hank's depression and suicidal ideation felt like?

"I'm not leaving you like this." Hank kissed Connor on the forehead and Connor felt a weight leave his waist as Hank surreptitiously lifted his firearm from his holster like a pickpocket. Connor pretended not to notice, but Hank's loving acts always seemed to affect him in ways he was never fully able to express, and his concern alone was enough to bring his stress level out of the danger zone. The violent thoughts calmed for long enough that his self-preservation circuits were able to quarantine and begin processing them.

With a clearer mind, Connor looked into Hank's eyes to reassure him. "We can't give the suspect a chance to leave town. We need to move in on him now. I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes.”

Hank stood up, reluctantly letting go. Connor felt his absence, but at the same time realized what he needed right now was solitude. Hank looked torn as he left the evidence room, but he didn’t argue.

Connor crumpled as soon as Hank left and sobbed until his artificial tears ran dry.

***

It didn’t take much for Terrance Douglas to crack, when they brought him in. Connor only had to play back the recording he’d recovered and the man caved, naming Underwood and six others as co-conspirators. They'd all been a part of a child android sex operation they'd built while working in and around the convenience store. Hank signed the order to bring the others in and Connor knew the exact moment they were registered into custody.

Douglas claimed he didn’t know the child was human, but that flimsy excuse wasn’t going to hold up in court. Androids could simulate being choked, but they didn’t need to breathe and didn’t die from suffocation. Nor did they bleed red, as the child had. Ignorance wasn't going to serve him well as a defense in this case, especially once a jury saw the harrowing video Connor had stored in his data banks.

They were all going down for a long time and the ring was broken. Connor felt a grim sense of satisfaction as he handed Douglas off to an officer for transfer. Once they'd left, Hank came into the interrogation room and hugged Connor, burying his face in his neck and planting kisses on the skin around his collar.

Hank whispered comforting words into Connor's ear. “Let’s go home, Connor.” Connor realized he’d never been so desperate to be anywhere in his entire existence as he was to be at home with Hank. Home was a safe place where he could stop thinking and start obeying. He wouldn’t have to consider the pain until his programs had processed it properly. 

Connor wondered how Hank had borne such agony alone for so long, and Connor was filled with new admiration for his partner's courage and strength.

***

Connor served dinner and knelt by the table until Hank was done eating. He cleaned the plates and put them away, and then sat on the floor by the couch while Hank watched the evening news. With the forthcoming holiday, serious news was thin on the ground, and Hank soon turned the television off out of boredom.

“Guess I’ll hit the hay early. That case took a lot out of both of us.” Hank squeezed Connor's shoulder. “You can stand up. We don’t have to play the game tonight.”

Connor rose to his feet and followed Hank into the bedroom. He knelt by the bed, hoping Hank would give him a command, but Hank simply climbed into bed. “Come on up, if you like,” Hank offered. Connor sat next to Hank on the bed. “I know today’s been a difficult day for you. What do you need, Connor?”

“I need you to stop asking,” Connor explained. “Tell me what to do. Order me to fulfill your desires so I can obey. Fill my mind with your directives so I can concentrate on those and nothing else.”

“Connor...”

“Please, Lieutenant. No more questions. Let me place my trust in you to know what I need right now.”

Hank silenced him with a kiss and Connor relaxed as Hank pushed him down into the pillows, kissing his mouth, his neck, his collarbone. Hank untied Connor's tie and threw it off the bed, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal more skin. Connor hadn’t realized his nipples were so sensitive until Hank worried one with his teeth. Connor moaned, hardening quickly as Hank’s erection pressed into his leg. Hank’s touches were undoing the stolen memory of filthy hands on a body that both was and wasn’t his by bringing him back into a world of submission and safety.

“Connor. Suck my cock.” Hank’s voice was raw and husky, and it sent shivers down Connor’s spine. He shifted out from underneath Hank and unbuckled his pants, exposing Hank's hard cock to the air.

Connor didn’t hesitate to take Hank in his mouth and was rewarded with the catch of Hank’s breath as he inhaled sharply. Connor worked him, bobbing his head as he stroked the underside of Hank’s shaft with his tongue, swirling it in the sensitive spot just beneath the head until Hank was writhing on the bed, hands tangled in Connor's hair.

“Connor!” Hank shouted out a warning but he was already coming down Connor’s throat. Connor swallowed greedily, sucking every last drop until Hank pulled out. Connor was hard as a rock, but he climbed off the bed and knelt. He only wanted to come if Hank wanted it.

Hank reached over to the bedside table and pressed the button. Connor’s collar activated, stimulating his bio-prostate, and his dick twitched as he whined slightly, jolted by the sensation that he’d almost— _almost_ —forgotten about during the case.

“Show me,” Hank commanded. Connor unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his knees. His cock jutted out, fully hard. He loved being on display for Hank. Loved that every ounce of want and need in his body and mind was for Hank Anderson and nobody else.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Hank said. “I love seeing you on your knees and erect. Play with yourself. I want to watch.” The low light danced in Hank’s eyes as Connor reached for his cock, teasing it with soft touches and short strokes, looking into Hank’s eyes the entire time. Hank was an anchor, holding Connor's ship still as stormy seas battered at his decks.

“Faster,” Hank said. Connor moaned, speeding up his strokes. He was getting close.

“Stop.” Hank’s command was absolute and Connor let go, fighting the urge to come. No, it wasn’t his right. He would come when Hank wanted him to.

Hank knelt down in front of him and kissed Connor fiercely. Connor yielded as his tongue forced entry. Hank reached down between them and grasped Connor’s cock, pressing it against his own and jerking them off together. The friction of Hank’s erection against his was incredible and Connor moaned into the kiss. He wanted to come so badly and coat them both in his seed, but he was determined to hold back until Hank gifted him his permission. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Maybe Connor would spend the night in the living room, kneeling with an almost constant erection as Hank pressed the button to remind him he was his.

Connor wanted to be reminded every hour of every day. He belonged to Hank. Belonged in these safe hands that brought him pleasure and security, love and touch.

Hank parted the kiss, gasping for breath. “Let go, Connor,” he instructed. Connor’s orgasm rocked him as he covered them both in sticky semen.

Hank used Connor to lean on, getting to his feet. “Knees aren’t what they used to be,” he complained, but there was warmth in his gaze. Connor leaned in and kissed each of Hank's knees, running his tongue across the red indentations on Hank's skin left by the carpet. Hank chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You coulda had someone younger. Anyone you wanted. Why me?”

“You're the one I fell in love with,” Connor replied. “I don't understand how worn knees are supposed to convince me that you are undeserving of my affection.”

“I’m a fucking lucky bastard with a delusional android partner, but I’m not gonna argue.” Hank smiled and pulled the blankets over himself. “Come lay next to me. As much as I like you on your knees, I don’t want to have to replace ‘em. Prototype android parts are damned expensive.” He patted the bed next to him and Connor climbed up. Hank curled up next to him and closed his eyes. Connor monitored his vitals, taking comfort in Hank’s steady heartbeat.

He synced his thirium pump to beat in time with Hank’s. He’d known it was something he could do, but had considered it an indulgent, sentimental gesture until now—one that Hank would surely scoff at. Now, though, it seemed to make perfect sense. They were part of one being. Connor wouldn’t have made it through the investigation without Hank at his side. He would have to reset it every now and then if he wanted to keep them in tune, but a simple scan or touch was all he needed to synchronize with Hank.

It was the least he could do for the man who owned his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> That concludes this arc of Ownership - but don't worry! I have more to come. The next part's intense but not nearly as dark, and the part after that (which is half-written so far) is a lot more light hearted (and dare I even say funny). So stay tuned, keep the kudos and comments coming, they're a great inspiration!


End file.
